You think you can tell?
by DaMick
Summary: WIP Buffy's looking for Spike but finds someone she wasn't expecting. Someone she doesn't want to save.


A/N:  As usual, I own nothing.  I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this past the next chapter but I might if I get a few reviews.  Hope you enjoy.

The brown haired man pushed open the door to the dark and dank bar and paused just inside the threshold. He took a long appraising look around his new surroundings and for some reason appeared immensely pleased with himself. Despite the fact that his arrival had the attention of every single demon in that joint. And despite the fact that as he made his way to the bar and the hissing tender several of them moved from their seats to either a closer vantage point for the ensuing violence or an attack position for the same. Oblivious to all except his intended drink among fellow villains, the man eased into a stool and rapped a knuckle on the bar to get some attention, not realizing he had more than enough already.

"Hey there, sparky; can an evil doer get a drink?"

"God damn it, Spike. Where the hell are you?" Even Clem was gone from that crypt today, the television as silent and dead as everything else in that cemetery. Except maybe... The vampire waiting for her to come out blows away with the wind as the Slayer stalks back out into the night. There's no way he would just leave town like Clem said. He loved her, right? Loved her so much he'd wanted to be with her even though she'd told him no. And in some twisted, violence laced, Slayer logic that made sense.

The street lights sprang on over her head as she continued her angry walk through town, her ire rising with every step. She kicked a can that managed to some how piss her off and it sailed across the street to crush itself against a street sign. She let out an exasperated sigh and continued on her hunt. She'd clear this town by the end of the night and if Spike was here she was going to find him. Even if he didn't want her to.

The demon sitting beside the brown haired man finishes off his drink and the bartender begins trundling his way down from the other end to refill it. As the brownish red liquid is poured into the glass the man raises his own glass in hopes of another. The bartender's look is not strange or unexpected to the man; he'd seen it all his life. In high school every single one of his 'friends' had worn that look. And so he knew now just how to get around it.

"What, haven't you ever seen an arch-nemesis before? C'mon, sparky, I don't have all day."

"And what could possibly be so important to take your charming self out of our company? Got an evil death ray to design or something?" The glass is still empty and the bartender is leaning sideways looking at him. They're taunting me, he realizes, they're all taunting me. They don't know who they're dealing with. Time to shut them up.

"Actually I've got a date with the Slayer." The questioning growls from around him accent the feeling of claustrophobia. He doesn't realize it's because every single one of the demons around him has moved closer and are preparing to tear him limb from screaming limb.

"A date?" Even the bartender's face has become threatening, no longer the look of contempt but one of impending malice. The man slides a hand down to his waist and lets it close around the cool feeling of death tucked into the front of his pants.

"Well, not me actually. But this..." He's pulled out the pistol and set it flat on the counter keeping a hand on it just in case. The feeling of things drawing closer disappears as suddenly as it came but it's replaced by something worse. First one chuckle, then another, and another. Finally the entire bar around him is laughing in some form or another with the bartender himself clutching a hand to his chest as sweat drips off his forehead in time with his flab shaking guffaws. Well that didn't work.

She can't believe this is happening. She's actually having a hard time finding Spike. Normally she can't get rid of him. She's checked and crossed off all of the cemeteries from her mental list and has even started checking the demon dives she knows he frequents. He's got to be here somewhere. God, if only she hadn't had to deal with Jet-packet Warren and his two bumbling sidekicks yesterday she probably would have found him then. Would have stopped him from leaving. Would have had a talk about what had happened between them. Would have... would have what? Would she have given herself to him again? Would she have let him back in after what he'd tried to do to her? If she hadn't been in such a bad mood that night and already hurting from her fight with the vampire would she have let him do what he was trying to? Would she have enjoyed it? Again?

"Stop teasing yourself. What's done is done." She was muttering to herself. She really should stop that. She just had to find him and everything would be alright. Somehow, everything would be alright. She let out another sigh and wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. Part of her brain betrayed her and remembered words without her consent. Words Faith had spoken the night they'd first met.

'Funny how slaying always makes you hungry and horny?'

"Shut up." She told her brain and some passersby in the other direction shot her funny looks. Another sigh escapes her lips and her feet carry her further into the darkness where she belongs. At least in the dark no-one cares if you're crazy.

"So what was the plan, genius? Just shoot the slayer and run away?" The laughter had died down and his glass had been finally refilled. What was the harm in a little evil gloating? Maybe if these hoodlums heard his plan they might show some of the proper respect for someone like him. He fits his best evil smile onto his face and brings back to the surface the cocky genius he knows himself to be.

"The slayer, her friends, anyone convenient. And then I will simply disappear."

"Told you he runs away." The bartender's comment throw the neighboring demons back into the land of sparse chuckles and reddening cheeks.

"Don't you know who I am?" In raising his voice it takes on a strangely shrill quality that he instantly regrets.

"Go on and tell us then."

"The trio. I was the leader of the trio. Until the other two got arrested, that is, so now I'm flying solo, baby.

"Never heard of them."

"I have." The voice came out of the darkness and the voice's owner stepped forward out of the shadows. The man didn't know what kind of demon it was but he'd take any respect he could get right now.

"At last someone who hasn't been living under a rock."

"They're the ones who turned the slayer invisible." A collective gasp from the assembled audience underscores the man's cock sure smile. He's focused entirely on their accomplishment and doesn't realize that the attitude of the creatures around him has changed again for the worse. One of their biggest fears, a nightmare for some of them actually, is a slayer that none of them can see and none of them can fight. The man feels the first demon claw like hand close around the back of his neck an instant before he his pulled into the air.

Well this is the last bar. After this its back to the bronze, she promises herself. She takes a few steps forward to the door and pauses just inside to allow her eyes to adjust to the smoky atmosphere. All signs of sudden motion stop at her arrival and she feels all the eyes in the bar on her. The group of demons to her left turn to block her view of the something behind them and the bartender tries to get her attention.

"Something I can do for you slayer?"


End file.
